Page 41 of Waiting for a Scot Like You
“I amend that. When things go well, it’s aShe. When life bedevils us, it’s assuredly aHe.” Humor helped to keep her steady.
Wiggins snorted. “My ma would agree with you on that.”
A moment later, Duncan jogged up. “Got the horses unhitched, so we ought to—”
Another sharp crack sounded overhead, and an instant later, something warm slammed into Beatrice. She went sprawling in the mud just as an even thicker,heavier branch collided with the carriage. From her position on the ground, beneath Duncan’s sheltering body, she watched, aghast, as the entire vehicle toppled over the edge of the ravine. It made a terrible, splintering sound as it slid downward.
She saw this all with horror, yet she was deeply grateful to have Duncan sheltering her. He’d acted immediately to get her out of harm’s way and now lay atop her, protecting her from danger. He was heavy and solid, and she made herself concentrate on these details rather than think about their narrow brush with death.
Darkly, she thought that today, the Heavenly Architect was certainly aHe.
She shuddered, but gave thanks that they had unhitched the horses before disaster struck. Sadly, however, her carriage now lay at the bottom of a ravine—along with the luggage.
Everyone was safe, but still, they had lost everything. She groaned.
Immediately, his hands came up to gently touch her face and stroke along her limbs. “You’re hurt?”
“Not a bit, thanks to your quick thinking.” She lifted up on her elbows, which was no small feat, given his weight atop her. “You? Are you injured?”
“Wet as a Sunday morning, but otherwise fine.” He shifted and rolled to his feet before helping her up.
Mud squished through her boots, yet she was unharmed, as was Duncan, and both Green and Wiggins appeared to be sound, as were the rather frightened horses.
As Green held the animals, she, Duncan, and Wiggins stood at the top of the ravine. It was so dark and rainy, it was almost impossible to see the carriage on its side, some thirty feet below. The cold that congealed in her had nothing to do with the rain and everything to do with the fact that she could have been in the carriage, lying broken at the bottom of a steep gorge.
“Afraid that’s a wash, my lady,” the coachman said glumly. “Want me and Green to climb down and get your luggage?”
“Risk your necks for a few gowns? Absolutely not.” The thought was appalling. “What do we do now?”
“Too far to press forward,” Duncan said, his voice firm with authority. “Think we passed an inn a few miles back. Hopefully, they’ll have a room for us tonight.”
His command immediately calmed her. Yet she had to ask, “And then?”
“And then we’ll assess the situation in the morning and determine how best to proceed.” He motioned for Green to bring the horses back. “Her ladyship will ride.”
She glanced at the animals who, mercifully, seemed calmer thanks to Green’s careful attention. “There’s only one other horse. But there’s three of you.”
Duncan, Wiggins, and Green exchanged a look. She read their intent immediately and didn’t like it at all.
“I can’t ride if you’re all on foot,” she said, trying to keep her voice level. They’d certainly try to override her if she showed any hint of agitation.
“You’re the woman in our party,” Duncan said just as evenly.
“Aware of that,” she replied.
“And you outrank all of us by leagues,” he continued. “We’d feel like regular bastards if you walked with us and,” he added as she started to argue, “your shoes are the least suited for miles on foot.”
She glanced down at her feet. Her little blue boots, that had looked so charming in the shop window, were utter rubbish at withstanding the elements. They were sodden messes, and she was fairly certain that the decorative heel on her right shoe was on the verge of complete destruction. Walking all the way to an inn whilst wearing soggy leather disasters did not, in fact, hold any appeal.
“I’ll ride, but I do so under protest.”
“Noted.” Duncan said.
Before she knew what was happening, he had his hands on her waist and was lifting her up onto one of the horses’ backs. She wrapped a section of mane around her hand, then nodded when Duncan grabbed hold of the animal’s bridle. They took one last look at the trench the carriage had dug on its way down the ravine and started back.
The rain pelted them, the wind gusted, and she was horribly cold in her damp clothing. Time stretched on,and she had no idea where they were. They passed what looked like the lane that led to the ruin, but she could not be certain.
Something twinkled off to the right, and hope surged when she was able to make out that it appeared to be a farmhouse.
